


Cat's in the Cradle (and It Won't Bloody Die)

by Madredhattie



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Body Horror, Gen, Gore, and then gets even madder when the bear doesn't die, black hat gets mad at a bear for calling him papa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 04:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madredhattie/pseuds/Madredhattie
Summary: "The first, and LAST word spoken by 5.0.5 was 'papa', and from that day he has never spoken since."





	Cat's in the Cradle (and It Won't Bloody Die)

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually typed up as part of an RP response which included a flashback to Black Hat's worst memory, and wound up working as a standalone headcanon piece. Thanks to [soulffles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulffles/pseuds/soulffles) for titling this in part.
> 
> Pretty sure the time 5.0.5 called him Papa is Black Hat's least favorite memory.

He’s in his office, cavernous and dark, the walls decorated with a repeating pattern of hats. The light pouring in from the massive windows is red, ominous and threatening. He sits at his desk in his tall-backed chair, and glowers at the adorable blue bear cub before him. The result of the newest experiment, 5.0.5., and, as he scowls at its innocent face and sweet demeanor, a complete failure.  
  
Flug is standing there, some feet back. He's babbling nervously about how while this experiment may not have turned out the way they’d planned, tossing it into the incinerator would be a waste as he could study it to see what went wrong. It’s a sound argument, but he can see the true motive lying underneath: the man’s already gotten attached. How revolting - but the mistake could be used as extra incentive for his feeble scientist.  
  
Looking at its soft fur, its round eyes, its gentle expression makes him sick, unpleasantly so, but it’s a mere inconvenience, one he can tolerate in exchange for a more productive Flug. And if it doesn’t prove to be so useful, he’ll be rid of it. Perhaps a forest filled with bear traps? Or he could find a particularly gruesome dimension to hurl it into, to watch it suffer and screech until he’s had his fun and ends its life.  
  
"Fine."  
  
Flug thanks him, spitting forth praises and flattery as he approaches to recover the tiny bear. But before the scientist reaches the desk, it raises its paws to him, Black Hat, reaching for him. Its mouth opens, to issue forth a cute growl or a gentle bark, he doesn’t know which and doesn’t care. He’s ready to snap at Flug to hurry up when it _speaks_.  
  
"Papa!"  
  
He freezes. The word echoes in his head, taunting in its cheeriness, in the absolute adoration it carries. But not the deranged obsession of a fan, no. True, deep, unconditional _love_.  
  
This thing, this hideous failure, this mistake - it sees him as a _father_. A parent, to lovingly nurture and guide it through childhood, to raise it tenderly with all the care in the world. It sees him as this. He is cruelty, he is darkness, he is the shadow that lurks in all minds, _he is evil_.  
  
The room shrinks - no, he _grows,_ towering in rage. His body warps and twists like putty, sprouting fangs, blades, talons, limbs, things only found in the darkest nightmares of mortal minds. His vision expands as eyes pop open across his form, wildly staring in every direction until they all focus in on the abomination. Flug is covering his eyes, not risking his mind by gazing upon what is happening before him.  
  
Through the rage there’s a stroke of satisfaction as the bear’s eyes go from adoring to wide in fear, and then it’s skewered on claws more than twice its height, running it through entirely. He lifts it up as it cries out in pain, and holds it in the air. Then he wrenches his claws out, tearing through flesh and barely leaving anything to keep the bear together. It falls to the desk with a wet thump and he hunches over it to watch it die.   
  
It does not die.  
  
Acidic saliva drips from his three-hinged maw, pocking the desk’s immaculate surface as he is, for the second time that day, rendered speechless. Then his fury peaks again, this time at the gall of this creature to spit in his face with a single word and then fail to _perish_ for its transgressions. And as he stares in fury at this thing, it starts to _heal_, flesh stitching back together as its cries fade away. No. No, this is unacceptable.  
  
He rips its guts out. It does not die. He sprays acid brought up from a stomach he’s seen fit to have at the moment. It does not die. Again and again he strikes, over and over, tearing the bear’s skin, boiling it with flames, visiting upon it all manner of torment, and yet as it cries in fear and pain it **does not die**.  
  
He knows a losing battle when he sees it - but to be on the losing side? Another insult from this miserable blue thing, forcing him to relent. He can’t win this. No matter what he does, this thing will not die. He lacerates it one last time, flaying the pelt from its bones, but the attack is reduced in its fury.  
  
Shoulders heaving, he stares daggers at the bear as it once more heals, allowed to finally return to an unmarred state. Its eyes, now that they are back in its skull, are hidden in terror behind shaking paws. He grabs the consolation and holds onto it, clawing his way into a stalemate. Slowly, his form shrinks, limbs retracting and eyes sealing until once more he stands in the shape he chose so long ago to deal with lesser beings face-to-face.  
  
He waves his hand and a shadow rushes over the top of the ruined desktop, leaving a pristine and unmarked surface in its wake. When no more pain comes, the bear uncovers its eyes, still trembling, but some of the fear has subsided now. It’s so _innocent_, so _trusting_. So _loving_.  
  
He **hates** it.  
  
Black Hat snarls and grabs the experiment, hurtling it at Flug.  
  
_"Get this thing out of my sight!”_

Both scientist and creation are gone in a flash, the doors slamming behind them. Black Hat roars at the empty room, and disappears into the shadows, a destination in mind. Orphanages don't have immortal bears, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Added a little to the end because it was otherwise just going to end with Black Hat yelling, which was hanging a little.
> 
> Anyway, I'm off to disappear again and not upload anything for months! The next lizardhat sits in WIP limbo even longer!


End file.
